Wings

We spent four days in Carmel Forest Spa.  Today, a part of the Isrotel Luxury chain, but originally established as a sanatorium for Holocaust survivors in the sixties (paid for by the German government).

For anyone living in Israel these last two years, no unnecessary luxury to spend a couple of days here. We were here for a couple of hours on my birthday and realized that this is exactly what we need. No airports, no traveling stress, no expectations that might be disappointed, just a 15-minute drive up the Carmel to get settled in our fluffy bathrobes; the guests’ dress code at this resort.

The sanitorium’s healing energy is still there, and I completely surrendered to it.

Sometimes it made us laugh, this vibe of everyone in white bathrobes waiting for their doctor slash massage therapist

. “Here is our medicine!”, we joked when they handed out small ice cream cubes or Aperol spritz shots at the pool at a certain hour.

When all the therapists come out of the treatment area all at once, a little note in their hand with their ‘patient’s name on it, it was so funny, so surreal, like a scene from a movie.

We're all sitting there in our sparkly white bathrobes. The doors open, and about twenty therapists come out altogether, softly calling our names in their light sage uniforms.

In an orderly manner, everyone finds their match, and we all retreat to our treatments.

My therapist’s name was Matti, and Matti immediately went to work, wasn’t too interested in me as a person, which suited me fine. The first ten minutes felt like a dance on my back, and then it started to feel as if he was working on my wings.

First, his underarm pushed into my shoulder blades outwards, working on my wing’s width. Then upwards, working on their height. Wider, higher, broader.

I wrote a lot during those four days. When I penned down ‘Brave and Fear, how does that look to hold together?’ I understood it had to do with my wings…

It’s ok to have small wings and just do your day-to-day stuff, but when you want your wings to grow into massive Maleficent wings, you are required to take off and thát

 is scary and needs bravery…

I asked Matti if he realized that he worked on my wings after the massage, but he was either oblivious to his healing touch or maybe used to the magic of his hands.

Wings are a fascinating subject, so I decided to deep-dive.

Not claiming to be an ornithologist or into aviation, but when reading about wing anatomy, I realized some of my imaginary wing massage was genuine.

A bird’s wing consists of remiges, coverts, primaries, secondaries, and tertials. (and probably much more, but as said before, I’m not an ornithologist).

First, Matti worked on my Primaries and Secondaries; essential for thrust, maneuverability, soaring and lift. Soaring and Lift! How cool. It felt like he was working on my width. Stretching wider means more vast, more spacious, maybe reaching a broader range of people of interests, places?

Then he worked on my Regimes, used for lift and support during flight. It felt like he was working on my wing length. Reaching out. In order to feel support, you have to connect to others, you can’t feel support without connection. As well as connecting to something bigger than ourselves in order to go higher.

After the Regimes, he worked on my Covert; essential for aerodynamics, but also the feathers that give the bird its unique colors. And how can we spread our wings without being true to our own colors?

Finally, he worked on my Tertials; the innermost feathers, protecting the other feathers and filling the gaps, the ones closest to the body. For me, it felt like he was working on the connection between the wings and me. I can have all the wing length, height and span I want, but it wouldn’t allow me to fly if they weren’t connected to me; to my essence, my colors, my body.

In short, in order to grow and expand the little container that we are, in order to Soar and Lift, we need to connect to our wings now and then. Thank you Matti.